Date: Mon, 2 Mar 2015 20:43:37 +0000
From: Joe Ferns <alohareaders@gmail.com>
Subject: Blind Faith 7

Blind Faith 7

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Doing Something

"Joey!  Hey, Joey!  Please.  Please tell me you had nothing to do with it?"

The Mink breathed huskily as she rushed across the cafeteria towards the
table where Joey sat with his friends.  She wore black leggings with a
loose fitting scarlet jumper that reached well below her waist.  Her eyes
burned bright with fear, big as a baby's and wide with concern.  It had
taken three attempts to get the shadow right.  Her pale face was gashed
with dark, dark ruby lips that seem to scream with anguish.

"Oh, Joey!"

She sank into a seat beside him.

Vern sat back in his seat, stretched his legs and ran his tongue across his
lips, upper then lower.  Ally Hastings beside him smirked widely and
glanced pointedly at Vern's outstretched crotch.  Catching his glance Vern
shrugged as if to say `so what?'  Joey was staring at the Mink.

"What?  Nothing to do with what?"

"You haven't heard?  Oh my God!  You don't know?"

"Know what?"

Vern and Ally leaned across the table their attention now engaged in what
she was saying.

"Peter.  Our friend Peter.  He's been thrown out of school for
trafficking."

"Trafficking?" stuttered Joey as if the word and its implications were new
to him.

"Drugs, honey.  He had a bag full of drugs."

Joey stared at her.  His mind went back to a few hours earlier when the
screen had suddenly gone blank.  Joey had thought nothing much of that and
had just assumed that Peter had lost his internet connection.  He'd left
his pc on just in case but he had gone and got dressed to be ready for
college.

When Peter did not return he assumed the reconnection was going to take
longer and so he sent a message to explain he had gone off to college.

Nothing unusual, he had thought, although at the back of his mind he did
wonder why Peter wasn't in school.  After all, Joey had dropped him there
earlier.

"You had nothing to do with it, did you?" repeated the Mink.

"Me?  Don't be such a stupid cow.  How could I have anything to do with
it?"  Joey was angry at the implication.

"I'm sorry, babe.  Sorry.  But he's such a nice boy.  You'd never guess he
was involved in that kind of shit."

"There must be a mistake.  Fuck, of course he's not into drugs!"

"But it's so hard to explain," she simpered sympathetically.  "I mean, his
bag was crammed I heard.  There'll be big trouble.  So I'm real glad you
are well out of it."

With that comment she threw her arms around Joey and drew him close as if
to comfort him.  Joey did not resist.  His mind was whirling as he tried to
make sense of what was happening.  While she hugged him tight and ran the
fingers of one hand through his hair, all he could think about was Peter.

He had had nothing to do with it but of one thing he was certain.  He had
to do something now.

Vern grinned as he watched the pair and stretched his legs wider.  He
flexed his now hard cock in his pants making the fabric rise and fall.

Ally Hastings caught Vern's glance and grinning broadly closed his hand
around his own package.

*************** Peter's mother had taken a long time to calm down.  She had
seized his laptop clumsily, tearing at it until all the leads came loose.
It was hard for Peter to make sense of anything she said.  He had opened
his mouth but only managed a word or two before she cut across him with
another outpouring that mingled shock with anger.  Quickly Peter realised
that silence in these circumstances was the best policy.

She stamped off downstairs to meet Peter's father coming out of the
kitchen.  She had ushered him back in and closed the door firmly behind
them.

Peter had come out of his room and sat on the top step of the stairs
awaiting developments.  At first his mother's voice was loud and incoherent
but slowly it calmed and softened.  Thereafter Peter had been aware of the
soft drone of conversation but he could not make out what was being said.
He went back into his room.

Sometime later his dad had come up to say he was going back to work.  He
told Peter just to try to get on with some school work and to keep out of
mum's way if he could.  He was almost reassuring and he said they would get
everything sorted out later but meantime he would have to ask Peter to hand
over his phone.

"I'm sure you'll understand why, son."

Peter didn't really understand why but he assumed his father was asking
this as a way of placating mother so he did as requested.

"I'll get back mid afternoon.  We'll know more maybe by then and we'll get
it all sorted."

The day had passed slowly.  Peter worked on his essay on Othello.  He did
think of putting on some music but decided against in case that got
confiscated next.  Around midday his mother called him down for lunch; she
had warmed some soup and made sandwiches.  Chicken and chorizo.

Peter interpreted that as a good sign as she knew these were a favourite of
his.  The conversation was stilted with neither too sure what to risk
saying to the other but at least they did converse.  Each was careful to
avoid anything that might be construed as a reference to recent events.

A little reassured by lunch Peter sat at his desk contemplating what had
happened.  It seemed clear to him now that Matt was to blame for his
misfortunes.  It was the only thing that made sense.  Only Matt could
really be sure of where he'd dumped his mobile on the night of the big
Glencoe meet; only Matt, then, could have taken and sent on these
troublesome photos.  As for the junk deposited in his bag?  Again Matt was
way out in front as the chief suspect.  But why?  They had been friends for
ever.  Other pals came and went but these two remained solid.  When you
went to High School friendships often changed.

Peter had seen that with other boys; best mates in junior school suddenly
hardly ever spoke to each other.  But it had been different with him and
Matt.

They stuck.  Peter giggled at the thought for his mother had said it was
like they were glued together.  Matt has said it was bostik, this male
bonding.

That was when they were older and their bodies had started to change.

Balls stick.

It was curious that, reflected Peter.  When they were young they would
share a cubicle to change at the swimming pool.  If they were out on an
adventure they would think nothing of peeing together against a tree.  At
the occasional sleepover they had even been quite explicit about examining
each other's bodies.  But when their bodies started to change they became
more circumspect.  They still spoke frankly about the acquisition of pubic
hair, of enlarged penises, of masturbation but they were less open about
exhibiting themselves to each other.  Until that time in the changing room,
that is.

 That is what made Peter curious.  In a way, as he'd sat there in the
changing room and sprung a boner, when Matt had lifted his balls to check
underneath, he had felt they were closer than ever.  He hadn't minded, he
had even been quite pleased that Matt was seeing him with a hard on.  It
was something he'd learned from Joey – a boy shouldn't be shy about
getting a boner, it was after all a natural part of a boy's body.

These thoughts made it all the more difficult to suss out Matt's
motivation.  There was only one answer Peter could think of.  For all his
bluster about the Mink it was Joey that was the problem.  It was Joey that
Matt fancied.  The more Peter thought about it the more convinced he
became.  Hell, hadn't that been the first thing that Matt had remarked on
when he first met Joey?  That Joey had a `fucking dong'.  He was jealous.
Iago had a handkerchief.

Matt was using different weapons.

************** "No, I don't need to take it away for analysis," said the
young policeman, shaking his head.

"So you're chemist then?  An expert?" remarked the headmaster acerbically.

Miss Alexander closed her eyes.

"So it is something entirely innocent, constable?"

She smiled.  He smiled back.

"It's finely ground salt.  That's all.  It doesn't even look right but just
put a wee dab on your finger ..."

The headmaster looked shocked.  Miss Alexander shook her head with a smile.

"We believe you, constable."

The headmaster snorted at the `we' but then thought better of it and
coughed loudly.

"You wouldn't be able to tell of course.  Not without calling in an ..."

"Expert?" she suggested, mischeviously.

He laughed at this.  "Well, it was better you left it as you found it.  If
you had opened out one of the ... packets.  Well, you'd have known."

The headmaster bristled.

"So what about this other stuff?  This vile pornography?  These ... these
..."

"Johnnies?"

Miss Alexander stifled her laughter.

The headmaster waved his hand airily.

"As you will, as you will.  Johnnies or whatever."

"Well, that's really a school matter.  Nothing illegal about an adolescent
lad carrying condoms.  In fact some might say it was responsible and adult.

And as for the vile pornography?  Well they are all well over eighteen.  I
mean look at that guy's ..."

The headmaster blanched.

"...paunch," continued the constable.  "Yes, definitely a school matter."

"I'll show you out," said Miss Alexander, trying to pre-empt any further
discussion.  "And we are so grateful, constable."

On the way downstairs the pair chatted about the incident.

"I'll talk to the boy, of course, put on my grave face, but I think we'll
say no more about it.  Certainly it's not a major offence but still ... I
would like to get to the bottom of it.  You don't know Peter Baines but
..."

"No, but you can never tell, Miss. It has the look of a jape to me.  You
know?"

"Boys will be boys?  And I'm Wendy, by the way.  In case you need to come
back," she added hastily.

"George," he said, extending his hand.  "George.  Well, goodbye Miss ...

Wendy."

"Goodbye ...George."

*************
 Matt headed straight round to Peter's house right after school.  What he
was going to say he had still not decided.  The dominant thought in his
head was that he had to put things right or at least try.  His reception at
the door did not encourage him.  Usually Peter's mother was really pleased
to see him, made him welcome.  As soon as the door opened he detected a
coolness.

Reluctantly she allowed him to go up to Peter's room.

"But not for long. His dad's due home early and we have things to discuss."

She fixed her eye on Matt before she added, "as you probably know."

He went upstairs and knocked on Peter's door.  Under normal circumstances
he'd have called out and barged right in but these circumstances were
hardly normal.

Peter was sitting at his desk by the window.  He looked up as Matt entered.

"Hi?"

"Huh, hi," replied Peter.  "What do you want?"

"We got to talk."

"What about?  Sub-standard titties?  Spunkbags?"

Matt could hear the tension, the suspicion in Peter's voice.

"I put them there."

Although he had already worked this out as a likely solution Peter was
taken aback at the frankness of the admission.

"I'm sorry.  Look, mate ..."

Peter interrupted him.

"You put that shit in my bag?  You did that?"  Peter stared at his friend.

He had difficulty taking in what Matt had said.  "So it was you?!!"

Matt nodded.

 "And then you went and snitched to the heidie!"

"I never did!" protested Matt angrily.  Quickly, however, he moderated his
tone.  "Honestly I don't know who did that.  It was just meant as a joke."

"Some joke Matt!"

"I know that now.  I feel rotten about it.  You have no idea ..."

"No, Matt.  You have no fucking idea.  I am in deep shit here and at
school."

"She said it would be a laugh and she promised ..."

Matt faltered at this point.  While she had been handling his cock through
the fabric of his flannels and slipping her fingers to encircle his balls,
it had seemed like a good prank.  And she had said she would find another
use for his cock later.

"And it's some boytool you got down there," she had whispered in his ear.

He blushed to remember his pleasure at the compliment.  She had slid her
tongue between her lips as she had said that.

"She?  What do you mean?"  Peter was puzzled.

"The Mink.  It was her.  She said it would be a laugh.  I got ... well,
sort of carried away and didn't think."

"Too right you didn't."

Peter rose from his desk and advanced across the room.

"Friends?  We can still be friends?" asked Matt in a voice filled with
doubt.

"Friends?  Huh!"

And with that Peter slammed a fist hard into Matt's crotch and, when Matt
bent over in pain, he slammed his other fist into Matt's jaw.  Matt grunted
and his breath came in short gasps.  He remained doubled over while Peter
stood over him, glowering.

"Ow!  Hey, that hurt!" squeaked Matt at last.

"And you deserved it!"

Peter stood staring at Matt; he held his fists clenched at his side.  Matt
was still bent over, his hands clasped between his legs, but he glanced up
and caught Peter's eye.

"I feel a lot better now."

Peter blinked at the crouching figure and then he let out a laugh.

"You're pathetic AND you did deserve it," he said but now with a shadowy
smile.

"Yeah, I know.  But man, it did hurt.  You have done damage to my
baby-makers."

"Not your jaw?"

"Maybe later, once I get over this.  Man, you got my balls right on
target."

"Good," snapped Peter unsympathetically. "And anyway, you were keen enough
to get your hands on mine that time in the locker room."

"That was medical," protested Matt.  "And I was not trying to wank you off.

"

Peter raised an eyebrow.

"Like I would want to.  As if!"

At that Peter grinned and reached out for his friend.  Momentarily Matt
shrank back, fearful of another assault.  Then, reinterpreting the gesture,
he reciprocated and the two pals hugged.

"So you gonna help me get this sorted?"

Matt nodded his agreement.

*************** Ally wasn't concentrating on the game and as a result was
getting thrashed.  Throwing back his head with a hoot of laughter, Vern
looked scornful.

"You are well getting your ass kicked!"

"What you reckon is up with Joey?" replied Ally, turning away from the
screen "How do you mean?"  Vern was surprised at this sudden departure from
Black Ops II.

"Well, come on.  You must have noticed.  He's been acting odd for a while
now but today.  Now that was seriously weird.  Something is getting him
down.  Like he's depressed."

"Maybe he just needs a good fuck," laughed Vern.

"The way the Mink is all over him?  Man, you saw her at lunchtime!  That
Mink was all pussy wanting to lap up some man-milk."

Ally turned to look at Vern who shrugged.

"Well, you reacted if maybe Joey didn't," continued Ally.  "I'm assuming
that wasn't your pet ferret down there?"

Ally looked pointedly at Vern's crotch.  In response Vern chuckled and
hefted his balls.

"I'm serious.  I reckon it's that kid.  Peter.  Joey is really into him."

Vern stiffened a little, taken by surprise at this idea.  His cock
responded likewise.

"You mean ... into him as in ..."

"No," replied Ally with a laugh, "not as in slamming the milk cart up the
love tunnel.  You got a one track mind, Vern.  I just meant he really liked
him."


"He'll get over it."

"You reckon?" said Ally doubtfully.

****************** Peter and Matt sat together on Peter's bed.  They were
reviewing the situation.  Matt confessed that the Mink had supplied him
with the packet that he had dumped in Joey's bag.  He was meant to find it
when he rummaged about for a folder or a text book.  The Mink had said that
Peter would take it out to see what it was and that the boys sitting around
in class would think it was very funny he had this porno stuff and condoms.

"She did make it sound like a prank," Matt whined.

"Are you telling me you didn't know about the other stuff?  About the
drugs?"

Matt blushed a deep, deep red.

"Well ... okay, I did look later at what she'd given me but ... Peter,
honestly.  I figured it was just plaster of Paris or some other powder –
not the real stuff.  It couldn't be cocaine or anything like that.  You
know how much MONEY that would be?  Peter shook his head.

"I suppose you're right. It WOULD be a fortune."

Mat hung his head, well shamed by what he had done.  At the same time he
was happier than he had expected.  Peter was reacting better than he had
any right to expect.  Deciding this, Matt decided to go further.

"There's something else.  Peter, see them photos?  I think it was her.

Truth, mate.  Didn't occur to me till later.  But she did milk me for info
about where our stuff was and that.  Well, it's suspicious.  And it all
fits."

"Och, aye.  Now speaks the boy detective.  You're a fool."

Matt looked sideways at his pal beside him.  He was shamefaced once more.

"I thought she was into me.  You know?"

"Her toy boy?"  said Peter, scornfully.  "You thought the Matt shrimp might
get to crawl into the Mink's cosy little shell?"

Matt reacted angrily.

"Who you calling shrimp?  I'm all man down there.  Well, I was till you
slammed the shrimp into a cocktail."

"Seriously?  Did you think you were in there?"

Matt bit his lower lip and nodded his embarrassment.

"Mate, I even bought these.  To be ready."  And from this trouser pocket he
produced a packet of durex.  "I went to a lot of trouble getting these."

Peter looked at the packet with some interest.

"We should try these.  You know?  A guy should always look like he knows
what's what."

"Oh, I don't know," answered Matt with a serious expression.  "Might not
fit you, Peter.  I didn't get the big size."

Matt smirked and Peter took a swipe at the back of his head.

"Cheeky!"  But Peter looked pleased.

"Peter?  Serious, mate.  Are we cool?"

"Yeah.  Okay, I thought I could trust you and you let me down.  But my
guess is you'll never do it again.  Anyway that's what mates do.  They fall
out and they have it out.  It's when you don't like a guy and something
happens.  That's not easy.  That's when it rankles."

Matt smiled at his friend and they bumped fists but for Matt there was
still a sadness in the situation.  He knew Peter had forgiven him.  He knew
he and Peter were still friends, probably still best friends even.  But in
his heart Matt knew that it would never really be the same again.  Peter
would never again quite trust him with the same blind faith.

"So," asked Peter, interrupted Matt's train of thought.  "What are we going
to do?"

"Nothing much we can do.  The damage is done."

"Well, that's true.  But I'm fucked if I'm going to be an ass-licking
surrender monkey.  Time we fought back.  What do you say?"

Matt's face set grim with determination and he nodded his assent.  The pair
put their heads together and began to plot.

****************** Peter said he was tired and was off to bed. He closed
the door softly behind him leaving his parents to their own private
discussion.

"That stuff didn't get there by itself," he heard his mother say as he
departed.

Of course his parents had been relieved at the news from Miss Alexander.

They now accepted Peter's account that some other boy must have slipped the
stuff into his bag as some kind of misguided joke.  The ease with which
they accepted this convinced Peter that his parents had really thought this
all along and that the tension he had been aware of earlier was the result
of their worry about possible consequences if the white powder had turned
out to be drugs.  It was therefore with some satisfaction that Peter
realised his parents had had faith in him all along.

It was clear however that there was a long way to go before things returned
to normal.  His mobile phone had been returned and yes, he could have his
laptop back with one or two modifications.  These were not detailed but
Peter assumed that dad would disable the webcam (or, given dad's lack of
expertise, destroy it).  He might also try to activate parental controls.

Peter smiled at this.  No doubt mum had insisted dad do this.  Dad, for his
part, would agree, knowing full well that with his greater facility Peter
would soon bypass that if he wanted.

Of the Glencoe trip no mention was made.  Or Peter's new found friendship
with Joey.  His parents had said nothing and Peter thought it wisest not to
raise the subject.

He went quietly upstairs and using a cushion from his desk chair and a
bolster he made up his bed to simulate a sleeping figure.  His parents
never looked in now later at night but he took this precaution just in case
in these unusual circumstances they did.  He put out all the lights in his
room and quietly opened his window.  He did not hesitate as he had thought
this over carefully in advance and formulated his plan.  Better, he
thought, not to stand there for too long thinking about what he was about
to do.  Thinking too much was a bad mistake.  Better to make a judgement
and then have faith in it even if doubts lurked at the back of your mind.
He sat on the sill and reaching behind him he gently eased the window back
down until it was almost shut.  Shuffling along the ledge until he reached
the end he then reached out and caught hold of the drainpipe.  He had
already decided that story-book tales of boys shinning down drainpipes were
just that, story-book tales.

Instead he used the pipe to lever himself round until he had one hand on
the pipe and the other on the sill's edge.  That way he was able to lower
himself slowly onto the kitchen porch.  This, he had already concluded, was
the riskiest part of the operation for the porch roof sloped sharply down
and while he was confident it would bear his weight he was concerned that
he might slip and slide and land unceremoniously and loudly on the decking
below.  The gutter, he knew, would give way of he slid onto it.

He eased himself down, found a foothold and landed safely on the roof.  He
smiled inwardly.  That exercise with Joey had paid off.

His smile vanished instantly for suddenly the back porch was flooded with
light as someone come into the kitchen and turned on the light.  He heard a
tap turn on.  His mother was making tea.  He dare not move.  He crouched
there, as far up the roof as he could and waited.

"I think you're overreacting, Doris."  Dad's voice sounded muffled as he
called through to the kitchen.  Peter's mother however sounded very clear
when she replied.

"You didn't see what I saw.  Large as life.  Pardon my French.  I do not
like that Joey person.  He's a bad influence.  No two ways about that."

Peter groaned softly when he heard this.  He also felt himself begin to
cramp.  He longed to stretch his legs.  But he dare not move in case a
stray sound attracted his mother's attention.  The tea making seemed to
take forever but eventually he heard the kettle whistle and shortly after
the light went out.

He waited a few seconds more before bracing himself and jumping down onto
the decking.  He landed noisily.  He steadied himself and crouched still.

Light again flooded onto the decking as someone drew back a curtain in the
living room.  He heard mumbling.  Then the curtain was closed.  He waited
and once convinced that no one was coming out to investigate he scuttled
off up the driveway and out onto the road.

A few streets away Matt was slipping out his front door.  He too had
claimed to be going off to bed.  By good fortune it was then that his
father had phoned.  Matt spoke briefly with his dad before handing the
phone over to his mum.  His mother wandered off then into the front room,
no doubt wanting privacy for what was usually a stormy call.  Matt called
good night, lingered a moment and then slipped out. As he did so he heard
his mother raise her voice.

"... and another thing while we're on about it.  What's this about Shotts?"

The conversation descended into absurdity thereafter.  Matt's dad heard
`shots' and `games' and assumed it was something about a football match
he'd promised to be at.  Matt had said all the other dads would be there
and so his dad had agreed to go.  For the life of him he couldn't remember
the date Matt had given him.  When his wife told him that Peter's dad
wanted to go as well, Matt's father thought that perfectly natural, if all
the dads were going to be there.

Meanwhile Matt was speeding off down the street for his rendez-vous with
Peter at the gate to the public park.

***********

Joey was sitting morosely in the flat.  He wasn't given to moodiness and he
had never before in his life felt all that downed or depressed.  He had
come in from his tutorial already feeling low and as soon as he came
through the door he knew from the sounds in the bedroom that Ally and Vern
were at it.

Usually this made him laugh and often he'd throw open the door to shout in
obscenities or even encouragement.  Their response was to make actorly
faces as they fucked, pretending that they were players in some triple X
porno movie.  Today the smacking of flesh on flesh depressed him.  He took
a bottle of Stella from the fridge and, sitting down, put Davis Bowie on
the CD player to drown out the sounds from the other room.

He tried to make sense of why he felt the way he did.  There wasn't much
doubt.  It was Peter.  He didn't know why but he'd like the kid from the
off.

It was the way he was up for anything, the way he rose to any challenge
Joey tossed in his direction.  It was like suddenly having a younger
brother who could do things with you, who looked up to you, who trusted
you.  It had made Joey feel good.  But then it had all started to go wrong.
Peter's parents, who had been so friendly, had become hostile.  The whole
Glencoe expedition was in doubt.  Peter had cut him off mid-chat this
morning.  And then the bombshell.  What the Mink had told him.  Drugs?
Peter?  It made no sense.

"Wow!" he murmured softly.  "Can't be true?  Surely?  But she said..."

With that he felt silent and his face crumpled as if he was forcing himself
to concentrate.  Had the Mink made it all up?  Why would she do that?  But
what if it was true?  How the hell did she know about it?  Did she have a
hotline to the school?  To the drugs guys at the police?  Joey shook his
head.

His first thought had been that the story made no sense.  Now he decided
that the Mink getting the news well ahead of everyone else made even less
sense.

"Though nothing will keep us together
We could steal time just for one day
We can be Heroes for ever and ever
What d'you say ..."

Joey listened to the track.  He started hearing the music again.  It was in
that moment that he made up his mind.

"This has got to be sorted!"

Quickly he finished off his beer and headed out the door.  He was off round
to see the Mink, determined to get to the bottom of what was going on.